


Your Destination is on the Right

by bella8876



Category: teen wolf - Fandom
Genre: Drunk Texting, Hale Family Feels, M/M, Post 3a, Road Trip, sibling feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-18
Updated: 2013-11-18
Packaged: 2018-01-01 23:16:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1049742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bella8876/pseuds/bella8876
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He had 11 texts, all from Stiles.  There was nothing from Scott, no texts or missed calls so Derek assumed whatever was going on wasn’t that bad so he opened the app and scrolled to the beginning of the messages.  </p><p>From: Stiles Stilinski 11:54 p.m. Yesterday.<br/>Your couch is still uncomfortable.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Your Destination is on the Right

Derek leaned against the car as he filled it with gas, his eyes closed, head tilted away from the bright Arizona sun. Cora had confiscated his sunglasses a few days before. She’d been singing along to some song on the radio and reached right over the console, plucking them off his face and settling them on her own. He made a few half hearted swipes for them but she dodged every one, laughing the whole time before he finally gave up. She settled into the passenger’s seat triumphantly and she looked so young and carefree and fucking _happy_ that he just let her have them. 

Cora was still in the store, probably stocking up on more junk food and Derek’s stomach rolled at the thought. He wasn’t sure he could take another meal of gas station burritos and 15 year old Twinkies. If they didn’t eat some fresh fruit and vegetables soon they were gonna get scurvy, werewolves or not. His phone beeped from inside the car, startling Derek in the near silence of the empty gas station parking lot and he turned his head to look in the window. He’d found it the night before, stuffed into the bottom of his bag, the battery long since dead. 

He’d plugged it in to charge when they got in the car that morning and Cora had snorted at him, settling his sunglasses on her nose and said, _“Why are you even bothering? Scott’s not gonna call and the only friend you have is already in this car.”_

And it’s not like he _wanted_ anyone to call because if Scott had to resort to calling Derek, that would mean things had gotten bad. And if Scott did ask for help Derek knew he wouldn’t be able to tell him no. No matter that Scott was an Alpha in his own right now, Derek still considered him pack, even though Scott never had and probably never will. If Scott called, Derek would come. Even if he wasn’t ready yet. 

And he wasn’t ready. Not yet. Too much had happened in that town in too short a period of time and he needed distance, he needed to be able to process it, to figure out how to live his life again. Peter. The Alpha’s. He’d lost a sister and gained a sister in the span of six months and he and Cora were still trying to figure out how to live with each other again, how they would work as a family and he’s not sure they’d be able to figure that out in Beacon Hills. But it was still his home and he’d always planned to go back someday. 

The phone finished its start up process and Derek heard the distinct ping that indicated he had a new text message. Then another, then another. Derek pushed himself off the side of the car and looked inside curiously as text after text popped up on his screen. He leaned through the window and grabbed the phone off the console and saw he had 11 texts, all from Stiles. There was nothing from Scott, no texts or missed calls so Derek assumed whatever was going on wasn’t that bad so he opened the app and scrolled to the beginning of the messages. 

**From: Stiles Stilinski 11:54 p.m. Yesterday.**

_Your couch is still uncomfortable._

Derek blinked, confused, and was about to move onto the next text that would hopefully make more sense when the passenger’s side door slammed and the gas pump cut off. He straightened, tucking the phone in his pocket and finishing the transaction before slipping in the car. 

“Got you something loser,” Cora said digging through the bags before emerging with a pair of hot pink plastic sunglasses with lime green stripes on the sides. 

“Because at some point between Beacon Hills and here I turned into a 13 year old girl?” Derek asked, staring at the glasses in horror. 

“If you don’t want them,” Cora shrugged and started to pull them away. She was still smiling but now she looked a bit hesitant and Derek had a sudden vision of an 8 year old Cora, nervously presenting him with a pink and purple friendship bracelet she’d braided for him at summer camp. He’d worn that stupid bracelet for two years until the knot had given out in school one day and he’d stuck it in his locker with every intention of getting it fixed but never had the chance. It was one of the few things he’d taken with him after the fire, one of the only things he had left and he was pretty sure it was still in his bedside drawer in New York. 

“I didn’t say that,” Derek reached out quicker than Cora, snatched the sunglasses from her and slid them on his face before she could put them back in the bag. 

Cora beamed at him and started pulling out the rest of her purchases. Two bottles of water, a far too large bag of beef jerky, and what was probably the stores entire stash of Twinkies. He was about to make a comment when she pulled an orange out of the bag and tossed it to him. 

“So you don’t get scurvy,” She said mockingly as she tore open a Twinkie package and Derek flipped her off before tearing into the orange peel with one hand and starting the car with the other. 

She pulled one more thing out of the bag and tucked it into the visor and Derek stole a peak, his eyebrows rising at the “Welcome to Arizona!” in bright yellow letters on top of a picture of the Grand Canyon. 

“Who are you gonna send a postcard to?” Derek asked popping an orange segment into his mouth and pulling out of the gas station parking lot. “The only friend you have is already in this car.” He threw her own words back at her and she glared, shoving a whole Twinkie in her mouth. 

“Maybe I’ll send it to Peter. Write “ _Glad you’re not here”_ on there.” She joked and Derek actually let out a laugh. Cora smiled at that and shrugged. “I don’t know, I just saw it and thought it was pretty.” 

Derek pulled the GPS map up and used it to maneuver back to the highway but didn’t bother putting in a destination, because they had nowhere to go, when it suddenly occurred to them that maybe they did. “We should go.” 

“Where?” Cora asked distractedly as she gazed out the window. 

“The Grand Canyon,” Derek nodded to the post card. “We could go.” 

“Isn’t it just like, a big hole in the ground?” Cora asked, picking at the sleeves of her shirt. 

Derek shrugged. “We could find out.” 

Cora looked over at him and smiled softly. “Sure, why not.” 

Derek nodded and told Cora to put it in the GPS. 

“ _Follow 1-40 East for 112 miles to AZ 64 North. Continue on AZ 64 North for 51 miles. Your destination is on the left.”_

The GPS called out and Derek glanced over at Cora and felt himself relax a little more. “Toss me a Twinkie,” he said and she laughed, grabbing one off the dash and throwing it to him and he felt himself laugh right back at her. 

The Grand Canyon was in fact a big hole in the ground. But it was still kind of amazing and humbling and Derek was glad they stopped. He’d almost forgotten all about the text messages until he found himself standing in a gift shop, bored out of his mind while Cora decided which magnet she just had to have. 

_“We don’t even have a fridge,” Derek had pointed out as she looked through the frankly disturbing amount of magnet options._

_“Yeah but we will,” Cora said looking up at him. “Some day.”_

There wasn’t anything really he could say about that so instead he walked over to the checkout counter and settled in for a wait. After a few minutes his phone buzzed in his pocket and he pulled it out to see a new text from Peter. Derek wasn’t in the mood to deal with his Uncle at the moment so he went back to Stiles’ messages and re-read the first one.

**From: Stiles Stilinski 11:54 p.m. Yesterday**

_Your couch is still uncomfortable._

Suddenly the text made a lot more sense than it had earlier as Derek remembered Stiles collapsing out of breath on the couch after helping Derek drag it up four flights of stairs because it didn’t fit in the elevator, and grunting, _“This isn’t even comfortable.”_

He’d been coming over every day since school let out, pouring over old maps, trying to help Derek find Boyd and Erica and complaining that there was nowhere to sit. So Derek bought the stupid couch to shut him up. It hadn’t worked. 

But that didn’t explain what Stiles had been doing on Derek’s couch the night before. He scrolled down to the next text to see if it could shed some more light on the subject. 

**From: Stiles Stilinski 12:38 a.m. Today**

_No but seriously, how did you clean all these windows? Cause there’s like a fuckton of them. Did you hire a service?_

Derek snorted, remembering one memorable night that summer where Stiles prescription had run out because he may or may not have been taking a bit more than he should have and he couldn’t refill it early without his dad finding out so his concentration had been shot. He spent two hours talking about the damn windows and Isaac had actually volunteered to go on patrol just to get away from him. 

The next one was a disparaging text about the lack of food in his fridge.

**From: Stiles Stilinski 2:12 a.m. Today**

_What the hell am I supposed to make with butter and pickles?_

Then a triumphant text when Stiles found Cora’s secret stash in the pantry. 

**From: Stiles Stilinski 2:29 a.m. Today**

_Twinkies!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Score_

Something about Isaac and Allison he should probably be more worried about but he couldn’t help but think that Isaac was Scott’s responsibility now.

**From: Stiles Stilinski 3:03 a.m. Today**

_Three months ago she was skewering him with knives and now they’re making out in the supply closet? What the hell?_

Three messages complaining about the twins.

**From: Stiles Stilinski 3:41 a.m. Today**

_So what? They just woke up and decided, hey we’re gonna stop being homicidal psychopaths today?_

**From: Stiles Stilinski 3:42 a.m. Today**

_I still don’t trust them. They’re shifty._

**From: Stiles Stilinski 3:43 a.m. Today**

_Also I have a really hard time not shouting, “Wonder Twins! Unite!” when they do their freaky werewolf meld thing._

Derek laughed out loud at that one. The texts were nice, making him feel like he at least had some sort of connection with Beacon Hills without feeling the pressure to go back. But he didn’t think that’s what Stiles had intended. Derek couldn’t help but think there was something Stiles was working himself up to say. He didn’t have to wait long to find out when he scrolled to the next two texts. 

**From: Stiles Stilinski 4:09 a.m Today**

_I can’t believe you left without saying goodbye._

**From: Stiles Stilinski 4:58 a.m. Today**

_Not cool._

Derek swallowed and straightened up a bit, staring down at the last two texts. He’d wanted to say goodbye. It didn’t seem right to leave without acknowledging in some way the bizarre relationship that had grown between them over the last six months. From enemies to allies to what almost felt like friends there at the end. He’d even driven by Stiles’ house on their way out of town. But when he passed, Stiles was helping his dad up the porch steps. They looked tired but happy and Derek couldn’t bring himself to impose on that moment so he’d kept on driving. He honestly thought Stiles wouldn’t care that much. 

There was one more text and Derek hesitated a second before scrolling down to read it. 

**From: Stiles Stilinski 5:29 a.m. Today**

_I miss your stupid face_

Derek felt his lips twisting up a bit in a soft smile and huffed. He really should be used to Stiles proving him wrong by now.

His phone beeped with another new text from Peter and Derek groaned before opening it. 

**From: Peter Hale 3:41 p.m. Today**

_Went by the loft to check on it and found a hung over teenager passed out on your couch. Don’t worry I woke him up and sent him on his way._

The second message was a picture of Stiles, sprawled out on Derek’s couch in a way that couldn’t have possibly been comfortable. His nose was squished into the arm of the couch, his mouth wide open, a trail of drool coming from the corner of his lips. His hair was messy, sticking up in every direction and his ass was perched in the air, one leg over the back of the couch, the other on the floor. And empty bottle of Jack Daniels still clutched in his fingertips. Well that explained the slightly too honest, middle of the night text messages but Derek wondered what drove him to the bottle in the first place. A new text from Peter popped up and Derek sighed.

**From: Peter Hale 3:46 p.m. Today**

_Do you want me to get the key back from him? Also I’m hurt that Stiles got a key and I didn’t._

Derek rolled his eyes and shot back a quick text before sliding his phone back in his pocket. 

**To: Peter Hale 3:47 p.m. Today**

_He’s fine. Leave him alone. Also I didn’t give you a key for a reason. This is that reason._

Derek looked up and saw a rack of postcards in front of him and grabbed one with a picture of the Grand Canyon on it before he could think about it, sliding it across the check-out counter and smiling at the woman behind the register. “Do you sell stamps too?” 

“Just the one?” She asked reaching in a drawer and Derek nodded. He passed her some cash and grabbed a pen from the counter, scribbling out Stiles name and the address to the loft. He hovered the pen over the message area and thought of all the things he wanted to say. He wanted to apologize for leaving. He wanted to ask if Stiles was ok. He wanted to know why he’d gone to Derek’s and gotten drunk. But he didn’t say any of that, just jotted down a quick message and stuck the stamp on. 

The woman handed over his change and the pointed over his shoulder. Derek turned around and saw the blue mailbox sitting right outside the shop’s doors. “Thank you,” Derek said as Cora came up and dropped three magnets on the counter. 

“I couldn’t decide,” she shrugged at Derek’s raised eyebrows. 

“I’m gonna wait in the car,” Derek nudged her shoulder with his own and she waved him off, chatting with the woman behind the counter. He walked outside, dropping the postcard in the mailbox before he could talk himself out of it and walked over to the car and started it. While he waited for Cora he glanced at the GPS out of the corner of his eye. He reached over and typed in Beacon Hills, California and the GPS started calculating the directions, calling them out to Derek as it went and ending with, “ _Your destination is on the right.”_

Derek still wasn’t ready to go back. One trip to the Grand Canyon wasn’t going to fix everything. But for the first time since they left, Derek didn’t feel a twist in his stomach at the thought of going back. He cleared the route as Cora climbed into the car, a handful of brochures in her hand. 

“The lady at the souvenir shop said the Petrified Forests are only like a 3 hour drive from here,” Cora said, her tone was nonchalant but Derek could see a bit of tension in her shoulders, like she was afraid Derek might say no. 

“We could probably make it before dark,” Derek said and Cora smiled. 

“Or we could stay here for the night. Get a room nearby, maybe even have a real meal and set off early tomorrow.” Cora offered. “And she gave me some brochures for a few other places nearby we might want to check out.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Derek said. 

A week later….

Stiles walked into Derek’s building, tapping out a quick text to his dad letting him know he’d be home in time for dinner before putting the phone back into his pocket. He walked over to the row of mailboxes and pulled out his key. Derek hadn’t actually asked him to check on the loft but it’s not like the guy had anyone else that would do it. And bringing in the mail and running the water every few days to make sure the pipes didn’t freeze might have seemed small but it made Stiles feel like just a little more Derek might actually come back one day. 

He pulled the stack of mail from the box and locked it back up, sorting out the bills and bank statements from the junk mail as he walked to the elevator. He tucked a 20% off coupon for the new health food store downtown in his back pocket, they mostly sold tofu and sprouts and cheesy new age medicine but they were also the only place in town who sold some of the herbs Deaton had been teaching him to use. 

He froze when he saw what looked like a postcard of the Grand Canyon and picked it up hesitantly, his hand shaking when he flipped it over and saw it addressed to him in Derek’s small neat handwriting. He let out a bark of laughter when he read the message on the other side and something in him relaxed just a little bit more. 

_I miss your stupid face too._

**Author's Note:**

> I've been known to [tumble](http://bella8876.tumblr.com/) from time to time.


End file.
